


Jealous Little Lions

by JailynnW



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brienne is done..., Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fighting Feelings, Gen, Jaime can be a jerk when hurt, Jaime is broken, Jaime needs to grow up, Jealousy, Love Confessions, Maybe Done, Mixes elements of book and show, OC for fun, Poor Girl, Technically set in season 8, They must deal with it, but not really because I don't think season 8 existed, dealing with self hatred, eventual smuttiness, finding self love, men are jerks, past relationships that mess up good ones, she loves him, so is brienne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22362745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JailynnW/pseuds/JailynnW
Summary: Jaime is jealous and handles it badly. Brienne is hurt and does not forgive so easily this time.{{}}::{{}}This came out of a discussion with some friends about how past relationships can haunt new ones. Past pain can make people see things that aren't there. In Jaime's case, Cersei screwed him up good and he hasn't really dealt with that. In Brienne's case, men have never been kind to her, can she really trust that Jaime loves her when she really doesn't completely love herself?
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 37
Kudos: 162





	1. Ghosts Without Bodies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [River_Melody_Pond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_Melody_Pond/gifts), [merrymaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymaya/gifts).



> This is all River_Melody_Pond and Merrymaya's fault. Blame them. 
> 
> I do hope you like it. It was written while waiting for the next chapter of All Hail The King to be edited (yes that is coming). We were talking about how Jaime and Brienne both have scars from past relationships and how it would take YEARS for them to really get over them. Their relationship would be rocky because of all the pain they have been through. This will have a happy ending. It will not be a long story. Sorry for all mistakes- grammar and spelling. This is unedited and pretty much a mess. LOL I need my beta always!
> 
> Please let me know what you think!!!

[ ](https://imgur.com/32iDwBo)

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**Jealous Little Lions**

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Part 1: Ghost Without Bodies

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Ser Walter moved quickly, his fighting style so much different from her own that she grinned. Her heart was pounding harder and harder. The rush of the fight lighting her up. This was brilliant, this was _fun_. He swung high and she evaded him, landing a blow to his midsection. He let out a huff of air, his pale brownish eyes twinkling in amusement. Brienne angled her body to nick his thigh when he did something unexpected, Walter twisted to the right and pushed into her back. She jerked, losing her footing on the wet and slick ground of the training yard.

She fell to her right knee, turning on it to face him again. He grinned at her. “Ser Brienne,” he laughed with a youthful exuberance. “Are you ready to yield?”

“Oh, that will not happen, Ser Walter,” she lunged and started advancing on him. He met her every blow with practiced ease, just as she met his. They danced for a long time. Back and forth, left to right, tourney swords clashing, grins being exchanged. He miscalculated once, leaving his right- his dominate side- exposed, and she took her chance. She used her body to tackle him to the ground, placing her sword against his throat. “Do you yield?”

He laughed and grinned up at her, “Not quite.” He moved his neck so the dull blade was not near it and wrapped his arms around her to wrestle her under him. She gasped in surprise as she landed hard in the muddy earth. He somehow managed to straddle and disarm her. He pinned her wrists to the ground and leaned over her. His smile was contagious. “My Lady, I believe our dance is done.”

Brienne laughed then sighed. She had lost and she was aware of that fact. “I yield.”

They got up off the ground, Ser Walter helping her. She was just wiping the dirt from her leathers when the slushing snow began. She looked up at the sky. The heavy dark clouds spoke of treacherous weather to come. Brienne sighed. She really didn’t want to be caught in that. She might be used to the elements now, but she was still a Southern Island girl at heart.

She jolted at a hand on her face. Ser Walter blushed. “Sorry,” he shrugged. “You had some mud on your cheek.”

Brienne returned his blush, thinking to herself, _she had mud everywhere_. She opened her mouth then snapped it shut as Ser Walter was spun around and punched squarely in the jaw.

“Do not touch her,” Jaime snarled.

“Wha…” Brienne bent down to help her sparring partner up. His lip was busted and bleeding. She turned quickly to face her lover and glared. “Why did you do that?”

Jaime did not speak to her. His focus on the other male beside her. She saw a darkening to his expression that she had never seen before… at least not in relation to her. She remembered it while they travelled and when he spoke of Cersei’s betrayal. He took a step forward and Ser Walter moved as well. She felt the tension rising and it made her concerned. What the hells was going on?

The two men eyed each other. Jaime was taller and used that to his advantage, but Walter was bigger and used that to his. She rushed between them. 

“Ser Walter,” he looked at her, his eyes glazed over with rage at Jaime, softening when he looked at her. “Please excuse us. I believe Ser Jaime and I have much to talk about.”

He turned his glare back to Jaime, who met the look with one that matched, before slowly facing her again. He bowed in her direction, taking her hand, “Until next time.”

Jaime growled as he walked away. He waited until Ser Walter was out of earshot before snarling, “There will not be a next time.”

Her eyes sharpened. “Pardon me, _Ser_?”

Jaime glared at her. “Did you enjoy your time underneath him, _Ser_?”

“Jaime,” she hissed, looking around them. People were starting to stare at them and she was not welcoming the attention. “Stop it! You are being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He asked moving closer. “You were the one rolling upon the dirt with another.”

She bit her bottom lip and curl her hands into fists. It would not do to punch him in the open. She was a commander. She had to keep her cool. “We should not speak of such things, Jaime. We can go somewhere private to continue this.”

“Come now Wench,” he snarled. “Everyone knows who warms your bed. Or at least who warms it for now.”

Brienne moved closer to him until they were nearly chest to chest. Her mind was blanking in rage at his comment. All she saw was all the men before him that mocked her. She thought _they_ were past this. He knew her. He had heard her fears in the late of night and held her while she shook from shock at the fact he _wanted_ her because no one had before. And now he accused her of wanting someone else?

Her action was fast and left her embarrassed. She hooked her right leg around both of his and sent him to the ground, climbing on top of him. He let out a loud grunt as she leaned over him. “Do not act as if I have ever been with someone other than you. If you continue this way, I will rethink that however.”

“How very Cersei of you,” he lifted his head and pressed his lips to her ear. “She used our fucking as a weapon to wield against me as well.”

Brienne pushed him hard back into the mud. She was sure there would be bruises where her palms connected with his chest, but she didn’t care. “Cersei is in King’s Landing. I am not using our…relations against you. But I will not lay with someone that does not trust me either.” She lifted off of him as the slush from the clouds got worse and her clothes began to feel heavy on her body. At least some of the mud was being washed away. “I need to leave before we say or do something that we cannot take back.”

She rose from his body and looked around at the people still watching. Her face flamed and she wanted to hide from the prying eyes. She angled her face up and saw Sansa standing by one of the railings. Her blue eyes watchful and she arched a single brow. The question clear: _Do I send him away or to the cells?_ Brienne subtly shook her head. She would handle this as she had everything in her life…on her own.

________________________________________

She was seething by the time she entered the castle after finishing her duties, escaping the mix of snowy rain and the embarrassment. The weather had only gotten worse as the day processed. It mirrored the storminess of her own mind. Her heart was pounding thunderously in her chest. Her body was shaking with anger. Brienne stomped up the stairs toward her chambers, water droplets leaving a trail for him to follow. She hoped he wouldn’t though. She did not want to see him at the moment.

Opening up the door to the spacious but simple room, she huffed and crossed the threshold, slamming the wooden panel behind her. She turned and looked at the lock. The thought of sliding that bolt in place was tickling that back of her mind. She took one step towards the door but stopped as it swung open revealing the man she least wanted to see. Her blood boiled at seeing him before her. 

His golden hair and skin were slick with the rain they had found themselves in moments before. She narrowed her eyes as he stared back at her. His green orbs flashing in the same way her blue ones were. He pushed his way into her chambers, shutting and locking the door. She heard the metal slide into place and she clenched her hands into tight fists.

“Leave,” she snapped. “I do not wish to see you and I want to rid myself of these sodden and heavy clothes before I catch the Stranger’s attention.”

Jaime’s gaze trailed down her body, “Do not let me stop you.” He pulled his outer shirt from his body, letting the soaked material hit the floor with a noisy “slop” sound. Her mouth started to open and her eyes widened in shock. “It is not as if I have not seen you without clothes before,” his gaze turned lecherous before snapping back into simmering rage, “Unless you wish for me to call the dark-headed soldier to come help you.”

“What is that supposed to mean, _Ser_?” Her voice shook with a dangerously quiet tremble. He watched her. Having been with her long enough to notice the thin ice he was walking on. 

Jaime did not heed the warning. “I mean to say, you and that green knight appeared quite close while sparring. He wanted you and you did not seem to reject his body on yours out in the yard.”

She took a step toward him, raising to her full height and placed her hands on her hips. “Is that what this is about? You believe I was too friendly with another man? You were _there_! We were training.”

To Jaime’s credit, he did not back down in the face of her anger. He merely shrugged. He pulled at the leather of the straps that held his gold hand to his wrist. He winced as the heavy metal released. Her fingers twitched at her side, wanting to rub the ache away, but she held herself still. She was annoyed with _him_! She shouldn’t want to ease his pain. 

Brienne turned from him and walked toward the closet to get a change of clothes. Jaime was not going to leave and she was sick of being in these wet garments, shivering from the chill. She moved to the divider in the room to change in as much private as she could. He clicked his tongue behind her.

“Do you really believe it necessary to hide your body from me while you change?” She spun on her heel and looked at him. “After all, my tongue has been buried deep in your…”

“Watch your words, _Ser_ ,” she hissed. “I am quite aware of where you have been, but seeing as I did not want you in my chambers right now, I feel I can change wherever I wish.”

“Am I no longer what you want, Wench?” He snarled. “Do you want another? Perhaps one with both hands to hold you down and play with your tits?”

“Wench?” She moved away from the partition and towards him. “Are we back to calling each other names? Just because _you_ are seeing ghosts where there are no dead bodies?” She threw her clothes to the bed and glared at him. The chill was gone from her body and hot wrath replaced it. “I am not _her_! You know that. You are the only one in my bed.”

Jaime’s mouth turned slightly cruel. “No,” he said. “You are not Cersei. That is for sure. You could never be her.”

It felt like a slap to the face and she flushed. Her worse fears realized. She would never compete with Cersei. Her crimes were shackled to Brienne’s ankles, weighing them down. Brienne pointed toward the door, holding her tears at bay by sheer will. “Get. Out.” 

She did not wait to see if he left. She began pulling her clothes from her body and tossing them toward the floor. She heard him sigh behind her and stiffened at how close the sound was. His forehead dropped to her bare back between her shoulder blades. Brienne did not move. She feared if she did she would either kill him or kiss him and at that moment either seemed like the right thing to do.

“I am a _fool_ , am I not?” He whispered against the skin of her back. She shivered. “You are not her. I know this. But I am still me.” She does not say anything. Her lips pressed tightly together as fat tears cloud her eyes. “You are so much more than her, but when I saw you with that knight on top of you…”

“We were sparring, Jaime…” she said cursing the way her voice shook. “He had pinned me. I could not reach my weapons.”

“He is whole,” he moved his head from her body and she felt the air rush between them. “You would do well to find someone that is of one body and not as old as I.”

She pulled completely away from him. Her rage igniting again. “We were _sparring_! I have done nothing to make you believe I am with another.”

“You are always with _another_!” He snapped. “I get scraps of your time. Meagre pieces of you that would not satisfy a pup!” 

“I have work to do,” she threw her tunic over her head to cover her breasts. There was not much to see but she could feel his eyes on them anyway. Her nipples tightening in response to his gaze and the cold. He had told her that he loved to rest his head between them and suck at the flesh. She quite enjoyed it as well. “I am counsel to the Lady of Winterfell.”

“And I am nothing but your bed partner!” Jaime pulled at his under tunic, growling. “I am worthless except to warm your mattress and wait for you to look my way.”

“While I was in King’s Landing, that was my life- waiting for _you_ \- and it did not seem to cause you pain.” She dropped her hands to the laces of her pants. “You did not seem concerned with my state of being while you hunted after Cersei’s skirts and made a point to place me in the Lion’s den with a woman that wished me dead.”

“Cersei and I…”

“I know what Cersei was to you,” she cut him off. “She was the light that made you want to live. When dying was all you saw, it was the thought of _her_ that made you eat and wish for another dawn.”

“No,” he whispered harshly. “It was not. _You_ are the one that gave me the reason to live. Cersei never entered my mind. It was talk of vengeance and home that made me want to survive after the best part of me was taken.”

“That was not the best part of you, Jaime,” she sat on the bed to remove her boots so that she could rid herself of her pants. “That was never the _best_ part of you.”

“It was,” he said, trying to pull at the strings of his own breeches. It was only then she realized that they were in _her_ chamber and he did not have anything to change into. She flushed and looked away as if she had never seen him bare. “I was that hand,” he continued. “My greatest and worse deeds were done with it.”

She stood, finally having enough of his fruitless workings at his laces. She pushed his hand aside and pulled confidently at the leather ties. “You have always been more than your sword hand, Jaime,” she looked into his eyes as the last tie gave way. “You have always been the _Golden Lion of the Lannister_ family.”

He laughed bitterly, “I cannot even seduce you without you taking control. _The Golden Lion of the Lannister family_? He died in the mud of Riverrun.”

Brienne dropped her hands. “You are being quite stupid right now.”

“That’s the right of it!” He grinned at her, the expression unkind. “The stupidest Lannister. Maybe you are closer to Cersei than you realize. She thought the same about me. I could not take her any longer either. But then again she always did like to be on top.”

Her body stiffened again. “You act as if you want me to be her. Do you think I would betray you as she did? Take another to my bed and lay between the sheets with him? Do you really believe I desire another when I have only ever _seen_ you in my dreams?”

“The words are pretty, Brienne,” he pushed his pants down his legs and bent to his boots, yanking hard on the buckles. “But I know you have lusted after someone else.” Once the boots were loose he stood and nudged them off with his toes, first one than the other. The breeches slipped fully to the floor and he stood there without a stitch of clothing or care. She flushed hotly and walked to the bed to gather a fur for him to cover himself with. He didn’t take it, preferring to force her to see him as he is. “Renly,” he continued and she pulled her eyes to his still blushing at his state of dress… or rather the lack of it. “You wanted him. You wanted his cock between your legs. You _dreamed_ of his pretty face over you as he sweated and grunted. You cannot deny this, Wench! Too bad he wanted a cock in _him_ just as bad.”

“You use the imaginings of an innocent mind against me?” Brienne felt the hurt of his words deeply. They picked at the scabs that were only just beginning to heal with Jaime’s love. “You would be so cruel to use my foolishness as a weapon to wound me? You have already given credence to those that called me a whore. _Your_ whore. And now _you_ take it further and call me everyone’s.”

His eyes narrowed with fury. “Those that called you that are stupider than I but do not forget: I am _cruel_ , Brienne! Ask anyone!” He stalked over to her. “I am the Kingslayer. An oathbreaker. One that should not be trusted with a pure soul. You have laid with a man that has no honor left. Broken and soiled.”

Something broke inside of her and she met him at the center of the room. “Stop it! Stop pitying yourself. You are still a fighter! You fought an army of the dead and you did it valiantly. And stop placing Cersei’s crimes at my feet. _I am not her_! I have not earned your jealousy or cruelty. If you wish to spit wildfire at someone return to King’s Landing and _your_ Queen.”

He flinched. “Is that what you want? Do you wish for me to leave?”

“No!” She yelled. “But I am not going to listen to you act as if I have done something wrong. I am finally respected for being me and you wish to take that away. Why? Why are you doing this? Are we not happy together? Do you not see that words are not always wind when they come out of the person you love’s mouth!?!” Jaime’s eyes widened and she paused recalling what she just said. “I did not…I mean we have never… The words came out without…”

“Do you love me, Brienne?” She stood incredibly still. “Answer me,” he commanded without raising his voice. It was a subtle demand. “Do you love me?”

“Is that not obvious?” She whispered to the floor. She could not look up and see his eyes sadden with pity at her foolish feelings. “Do you really believe I would take you into my bed if I did not? I was not that drunk, Jaime. I knew what I was doing and why.” She turned from him completely and blinked rapidly. He refused to let her hide and moved to stand in front of her again. “You do not have to say anything. If you want to leave…” Her words were swallowed by his mouth on hers.

He pushed her tunic up her stomach and rested his hand on her side, fingers curling into her flesh. She gasped into his mouth. He used the distraction to slip his tongue in. The dance was forceful. His body a hard wall against hers. Her hands moved up his back, feeling the muscles ripple under her touch. He growled as her nails dug in a little as he bit at her plump bottom lip. 

“Say it again,” he demanded with gravel to his tone. “Say it, Brienne.”

“I love you, Jaime,” she whispered. Her voice a pitch higher. “I love you.”

“Fuck,” he extended the word out, making her shiver. “I love you too.” He nudged her gently to the bed until she fell upon the furs. “I am going to make tonight memorable, my fucking sexy Wench.”

His emerald eyes held promises of pleasures to come. When she was young, she had been prepared for pain in the marriage bed. Septa Roelle made sure she knew that no man who took her would do it with the hope she would enjoy yourself. _It is an act of duty. Only the whores in the brothels enjoyed sex. And if one did find a man to want to please a woman, it would be a love match. That is not what yours will be._

Jaime had dashed those thoughts from her mind. He had been patient with her that first night, even while drunk on the strongest wine the Starks had. He had made her fly as high as Queen Dany’s dragons. She had touched the sky and floated back to the land in his arms.

He pulled at the material of her tunic and together lifted it from her body. The room was not as warm as she normally preferred it. The North was never without a chill to the air, but with his body pressing into hers, she was _burning_. He eased down her body and kissed between her breasts. “Mine,” he whispered against her nipple. “You are mine.”

From beyond the door, men walked by her chambers. Loudly talking and laughing. _“The Kingslayer finally saw what we have all seen. She is a tease. Poor Tormund was drug around by his beard.”_

A second voice, _“Why would anyone wish to ride that beast?”_

_“She’s a fighter though. I bet she likes it rough. It is not as if the Kingslayer is much of a catch himself. Pretty boy he is.”_

_“Aye, but at least you could look at him without drink.”_

_“I could look at her. From the back! Her ass would be better than her face.”_

A fog of desire had started to cloud her mind, but somehow their words and laughter made it through. She started to tremble. He rose up and looked down at her.

“Brienne,” he whispered.

“No,” she wrapped her arms around her chest and turned away. All she had done to make a place for herself was shattered. She was nothing but an ugly whore that could fight. “Leave.” He did not move until she looked back at him. “Jaime, leave. I wish to be alone.”

“Please Brienne do not listen to those…”

“That said the same as you?” She pulled herself from under him with some effort and placed a pillow across her lap as a barrier. “When we first met you said much the same. You mocked my appearance. You japed about me not being a woman and that I may want to have relations with a horse.” He winced and looked away from her in shame. She continued. All the hurt that she had buried coming to the surface. “You only looked my way when Cersei had wrecked all between you. I am second to your twin and Queen.” She fought the tears that threatened to choke her. “I want you to leave, Ser Jaime. I _need_ for you to leave me be.”

“What I said to you was cruel and meant to hurt…”

“Yes,” Brienne picked at the corner of the pillow. “And so were the words you spoke today. I always give in to you. I always forgive because I have never felt like this with anyone. But if loving you means that every time you see something you do not like you will aim your words for my gut. Then mayhaps we should not continue this way.”

From beneath her lashes she saw him freeze. Brienne lifted her head and looked at him. His face was tight, the corners of his mouth pressed so hard, his lips thinned out. His green eyes, Gods those gorgeous green eyes, were caught between anger and sadness. She wagered that the anger was directed at her for taking his toy away, but she did not care. Or she tried not to care. It would be nearly impossible to face all those men tomorrow. She would be laughed at and mocked behind her back. 

He climbed from the bed and stood nude before her. She had once thought him half a God while dying in her arms, now she could see he was more. He was her dream and her nightmare. He was the man that she loved and he was the man who could crush her. Jaime Lannister was gorgeous and strong. He was her light and the bringer of her darkness. He could use his words to make her blush with joy and he could use them to break her.

He was powerful- he held power over her in ways no one had ever before. She looked at the wall beyond him and bit at her lip. It terrified her to know that in the end, she would always be weak with him. She would always stand before him and proclaim him a good man, because she wanted so much to believe it. 

“Brienne,” he started, “Please look at me.” She did not want to, but she did. Their eyes met and she had to swallow hard to halt the sob rising in her chest. “Do you really want me to leave? Do you really want to end what we have because of one stupid fight and two drunk fools?”

“In anger we say what we truly think,” she whispered. “You obviously believe me a whore or you would never have accused me so publicly of being untrue.”

“It was wrong,” his shoulders slumped. “ _I_ was wrong. I know you. I know how true you are. How closely you guard those you love and how you would never betray them…”

“If you know all these certainties, why cast doubt on my honor which has already been tarnished by taking you to my bed without a vow spoken between us?”

“I would wed you, Brienne.” His sage green eyes implored her to give him another chance. “I would take you as mine and never waver in my devotion.”

“Until you see me as the enemy,” she grabbed for her tunic and slipped it on. “There is nothing you can say that will give me peace. I ask you again, Jaime, leave me be. For both our sakes. The broken parts of you are too much for me to repair when I am so ill-equipped to handle the cuts I receive when I try.”

“You really want to end us,” Jaime’s voice sounded tight. “You want to send me away after one fight. I thought you were a fighter, Brienne.” She swallowed against the lump in her throat again. Her vision of him blurred through the tears. Her heart was in pieces, shattering like glass. This was the most pain she had ever felt. The cuts from knives, the bruises from fighting, the bet and the laughter, the mocking she had always dealt with- none of it compared to this. Jaime walked toward her on the bed, kneeling on the mattress. “Fight for us, Brienne.”

“I cannot.” He jerked back as if slapped. “I cannot be your whore and I cannot be your lover any longer. We are not meant to be. You will always be ready for me to do as _she_ did. And I will always be aware that her crimes are mine until I can prove my innocence. The words you said today- they will be the chain around my neck. Those men that were starting to _see_ me as equal, as a commander, have been reminded I am merely a woman with a sword.”

“You are more than that.” 

The pain in his voice made her shiver. She _ached_ everywhere, but especially where her heart used to be. She once thought she was in love with Renly. She once dreamt of dancing close to him and taking him in her arms under the cover of night. Jaime’s hurtful words were true. But she had been wrong then. That was not love- that was a fantasy. What she felt for this man, standing nude in her chambers, was so much more… and that’s why she felt like she was dying telling him to go.

She moved from the bed and walked over to the closet. She needed him gone and his clothes were surely still too soaked for him to walk the cold halls of Winterfell in. Brienne pulled a tunic and some pants from the shelves. Her steps were slow and measured as she thrust the clothes at him. A mask fell across his face. His warm green eyes turned cold and appeared far away. A lesson he taught her from years ago came back:

_When they come to hurt you, go inside. Think of Renly. Think of whatever. Just do not focus on the pain and it will be over quicker. Give them your body. Lock yourself away._

She had not needed to do it. He had sacrificed his hand so she would be spared. She did not learn how to hide from the agony. She was learning from him now. Jaime took the clothes without a word and put them on. She tried not to notice how her leathers looked on him or how the tunic was a little too large in the shoulders. Brienne tried desperately not to enjoy seeing him wrapped up in what was hers. 

She tried not to. But she still felt the tug in her stomach and the arousal in her core at the sight. He could look handsome in anything, but there was something intimate about seeing him clothed like this. It was sharing more than fabric, it was sharing scents and possessions.

_Mine._ He had said that while nestled in her arms. Jaime had claimed her… but then again, she had always been his anyway. This moment was her claiming him while letting him go. She did not give him a lock of her hair while batting her lashes. That would be for others to do. She could never pull that type of coyness off. Giving clothes to a fellow soldier- and man that held her soul in his palm- that she could do. 

_Mine._ She wished that was true. She wished he could just be content and not act as if she was looking to bed anyone else. But the scars of Cersei’s actions were still angry and sore to the touch. Something about her fighting Ser Walter had been like whip to those scars and had brought forth the vicious lion that snarled and snapped at her. No matter what she did, she would always be compared to Cersei. 

It’s a comparison that doomed her. She would not fall prey to it. She would move on from the ache inside of her. These clothes might feel like a claim, but it was a false one. Cersei had placed her paws over his soul long before she was brought into the world. She was a fighter, but she was not dim enough to swing her sword against a wall that would never fall. 

“Can I say anything that might change your mind,” he asked with his eyes pleading with her to rethink this. He was still holding himself back, locked away. Stone by stone a wall was being built. One that would keep her from feeling his arms around her, his lips upon hers. With shaky hands, she placed another weathered stone on top of the last and shook her head. He sucked a breath through his teeth and nodded. His shoulder rolled back. “I will leave you this night, Brienne. I will grant you your freedom from my love, but know that I will not give up on you. _We are not done._ ” 

She shook her head again. “Goodbye, Ser Jaime.” 

Like when they stood in the tent at Riverrun, he stared at her. Emotion playing across his features, each more devastating to her than the last. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off some of the chill that seeped into her bones. 

“Good _night_ , Ser Brienne,” he said with clarity. 

She watched him exit her room and finally let the sob that had been choking her out. She pressed her fists to her lips to smother the sounds. She had dealt with heart break many times over in her life, but this was so much worse than all the times before. This was a piece of her soul being ripped from her, leaving her bloody and dying upon the cold stone floor. 

Still she promised herself, she would never be his whore again. He could not love her. He could not _want_ her as anything more than a warm cunt to rest his cock. He only thought of wedding her when he thought he had lost her. And he had lost her. 

And Brienne lost her heart in the fray. She should have known better. She was not meant to be loved. She was only meant for mocking and fighting. It was time she embraced her place and stopped trying to believe herself worthy of anything else. 

Starting on the morrow. Tonight she would mourn the loss of her spirit and her dreams. Tonight she would bury the hope that she had that one day she would be the only one he saw in _his_ dreams. 


	2. Breaking the Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments and love the last chapter got. I really hope you like this one as well. It's horribly edited by me. Please forgive all mistakes. I suck at editing. LOL Thank you again!!!

[](https://imgur.com/tPEPnhE)

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**Jealous Little Lions**

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Part 2: Breaking the Chains

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Jaime leaned his forehead against the rough wood of the chamber door and listened. The sobbing was faint but he could hear it nonetheless. It ripped at his insides to hear Brienne break down because of him and he could not shed a tear for her. The pain was like a hot iron vise around his heart, burning him, searing her words into his soul, but still… not a tear. His father’s stern face and years of being told that Lannisters did not cry, forced him to learn other ways of dealing with painful emotions. 

His method had been honed after years with Aerys, after seeing how his father’s face turned hard, after war and death claimed those he loved… He learned to separate it all, push it behind a wall and let it wither and die there. He turned so that his back was against the door and he closed his eyes. Some called him cold for never dropping to his knees and sobbing. Some admired his strength. It was all a farce. The pain was there, it was always there.

It just came out in his nightmares. Green fire burning people alive. Laughing Kings and Queens that used small folk as pieces on a game board. Broken boys from windows, legs bent at awkward angles and eyes that would never be the same. He relieved the moment the sword slid into his King’s back and the one where the huge curved arakh took his hand. He screamed and cried out, sweat pouring from his body and woke up breathing heavily. 

But still he did not cry. 

He forced himself from the door and started walking down the hall toward his hole in the wall chambers. He guessed he should be glad for a bed and not a kennel. He wondered briefly if some of the Northern men were outside his door ready to take him from this castle by force… He almost wished there were. He was aiming for a fight. Jaime might be one paw short, but he wanted nothing more than to find those men that passed by her chambers and made her remember that she was too good for him. He let a sardonic smile curl his lips. It was bound to happen. Brienne was bound to realize he was nothing but poisonous chain around her neck, killing her and her goodness with his cruelty.

She had stood in front of the entirety of the North, in front of her Lady Liege and proclaimed him honorable and good. He, then, had proceeded to dis _honor_ her at every turn. If he believed in the Gods, beyond the Stranger, he would have said they were mocking him. Giving him what he wanted, knowing he would screw it up in the end. 

She was too good for him. She was right to kick him from her bed. She would be right to cut him from her heart as well. The dull ache in his chest as he thought about that made him feel ill and for his anger to rise like the tide. It was true what those craven Northern bastards had said in the cruelest of ways. He was not much of a catch. The rest, the stuff they said about Brienne, was as false as his supposed goodness. But that- _that_ was a true aimed arrow. He was broken and spiteful. He let his jealousy cloud his judgment. 

It was just seeing Brienne with someone else, another man on top of her, holding her down, leaning triumphantly over her…made his insides curdle like days old milk in a glass. Sour and putrid. The taste of it caused him to gag and his blood to heat. All he saw was red. He clenched his hand into a tight fist. He had wanted to kill _Ser_ Walter, with his bright smile and boyish charm…with his two hands and youth. He was what Jaime was not any longer. That man could hold his own against the fierce Lady Knight. He could conquer her. 

Ser Walter could do what Jaime once could. He could take her- he would be strong enough. He was not broken with more than just a missing hand to blame. He was not damaged by years of laying with his sister and taunts of king slaying to wear on him. He was not fitted with gold when wood would do the same. Jaime would not condemn Brienne for swaying and swooning into the arms of someone that could fuck her through the night- no that was a lie, he would condemn her. He would curse her and wish her ill in his mind. 

Brienne was his! He had claimed her. He had seen her when others looked away. She was _his_ wench. He had given her, her first kiss. She had given him her maidenhead. They had called each other’s names out to the Gods as they fucked the booze from their system. Ser Walter, Tormund, and anyone else that dared to look at her with lustful intentions were too late. Brienne was upset by his actions and by the words he had spoken in anger, but she was _his_. He did not share. …

 _You did once,_ a mocking voice sneered in his head. The damning tone of his sister coming to remind him of his place. _You came to me after Robert had done his duty. You played your part. Servant to my needs. Always reaching under my skirts, hoping my cunt was wet for you and _you_ alone. Do you reach for the cow the same? Does her smallclothes smell of her arousal as mine had? Are you sure that the wetness there is from thoughts of you and not of tall Wildlings and more capable knights?_

Jaime sagged against the cold wall of the hall close to his chamber. The empty feeling those thoughts gave him left him weak. He straightened quickly. He needn’t be seen as a weakling. From the corner of his eye, he saw movement and lunged toward the shadow. He might not be up to his old talents as a swordsman, but he could still sense when something was amiss. He pulled the man from the half-darkness and growled. It was as if his mind had conjured him. His left hand twisted in the material of Ser Walter’s tunic.

“Have you come for another beating,” he snarled at the other man.

Walter peeled Jaime’s hand from his tunic, one finger at a time. “I have come to secure this side of the castle. Should you not be in bed? A man of your age would need rest.”

The words were mocking and sharp. His age… yes he was more advanced in years than this child before him. He had fought with and against some of the best. _He_ was one of the best. _**Was** being the word to remember, right, dear brother? Not as deadly with only your left to weakly hold a sword. A babe could disarm you!_ Cersei’s words curled around him like poisonous smoke, choking the life from him. 

He forced the words from his mind and glared at the younger man, “You will never have her. She’s too good for you.”

The younger man smiled. Jaime wanted to find something unsure in the expression, but there was nothing but confidence. He was cocky. He knew what he was. He was whole, a talented fighter, young and attractive. He was as Jaime used to be. Not used up by someone else. He could give Brienne his best years and Jaime felt that bitterness rise again.

“Ser Brienne is too good for both of us, but only I have not hurt her for no reason.”

“I have not…” Jaime puffed out his chest. 

“Have you not,” Walter smirked a little. “So the actions in the practice yard have made the Lady giddy with joy and acceptance?” Jaime looked away grimacing. Walter chuckled. “You fear me.”

“I fear no one,” Jaime bit out turning back to the younger Knight. “I have faced more formable foes than you. Brienne laid with me first. It is my name that has graced her lips in pleasure. You are not even a notion in her mind.”

“I do not deny that you have warmed her bed. You have sated her needs,” Walter pushed himself to his full height, which was still almost a quarter of a head shorter than Jaime. “But, _Ser_ Jaime, it is not the one that kisses her first that matters. You may have loved her first, but _I_ will love her last. I will kiss her lips last. You see, it is not the one that takes her innocence, it’s the one that holds her while the Stranger waits to take her that really owns her heart.” He walked around Jaime, standing so that they were shoulder to shoulder and turned his head to the side to look at him. “Do you believe that person will be you at this moment? Can you really close your eyes and picture Brienne in your arms? Because I can see her quite well in mine.”

Cersei laughed in his head. Her blonde curls swinging around her shoulders and she smirked at him. _Her hair was short the last time you saw her. She was cold and cruel. Eyes like green glass._ He thought as he frowned.

Her phantom raised an eyebrow, arched perfectly, mocking him easily. _See dear brother,_ she cooed at him. _The cow will die with another and you will come back to me. Our lives are forever intertwined. Life and death, ours and our kids. The Stranger waits for us to be one again. You will never escape this. Ser Walter and the beast will move and touch under the sheets, while we will wither and rot._

He shoved her to the back of this mind again and glared at the man at his side. “She will never be yours,” he said again, firmly. He knew that was true. Brienne was like the sun- constant and bright, a fixed point in his life. Since he met her in that cage filled with his own shit and piss, he had known one thing for sure, Brienne was loyal and loved with singular fierceness. “We have been through the Seven Hells together. You know nothing about her beyond what your eyes can see.”

“Those eyes see more than you think.” Walter shrugged. “I may have not known her touch as you have yet, but at least I know one thing for sure- you will always fuck it up.” Jaime growled, his hand twitching and aching for a sword. “You will always return to your sister. Ser Brienne waits for it. Did you know that? I have seen it in her eyes. She knows as much as you that you are not hers completely.”

Jaime turned to face him fully and shoved him into the wall. Ser Walter let out a grunt of pain as his back hit the rough stone. He leaned in close and snarled in his face. “You do not know me or Brienne. If you wish to keep your pretty teeth firmly in your head, I suggest you stop saying shit that could lead them to end up on the floor.”

The threat did not do as Jaime wanted. Ser Walter grinned, his white teeth glinting in the low light of the hall. “If I lose some teeth it will be a small expense to pay. You will lose the real prize.”

“Brienne is not a prize to be won,” Jaime pushed against him harder. “She is more than that.”

“I am aware.”

“Why do you chase her?” Jaime leaned in, his nose almost touching the other man’s. “She is not free to be yours, and yet you try or is this merely a jape? Is that it? To see if you can unseat the Kingslayer in her bed?”

Walter for the first time looked angry. His brown eyes, which had been glittering in amusement, turned hard. “Do you think you enter my mind at all? Fuck you, Lannister! Brienne is worth more than being just an extension of _you_. While you pushed your cock into your sister’s cunt, we were _here_. I have watched her and wanted her for many moons before you showed up.” He pushed back against Jaime, almost making him trip. “It is a wonder she wants you at all,” he looked him up and down. “You do not realize how amazing she is really. If you did you would not be standing here in a pissing contest with me, you would be on your crippled knees begging for another chance.” Jaime did not want to flinch at the truth in his words, but he did. The bitterness of honesty had never been his favorite. Sweet honeyed lies- those are what he craved. The ones that Cersei could tell him while blinking moss eyes up at him from her bed while he lapped at her chest in reverence. “I should thank you though.”

“Thank me,” Jaime asked with suspicion. “Why would you thank me?”

“Because it is your actions that have made it possible for me to court Ser and Lady Brienne.” A cold feeling settled in his stomach. “She would not have swayed from your arms if you had not given her reason. I would have most assuredly watched as she wore your cloak around her shoulders, but now… you may have to watch her wear mine.”

He walked away leaving Jaime to stagger back to his bedchamber. His left hand shook as he pushed the door open. He shut the door firmly behind him and looked around, unseeingly. His body was worn out and he stumbled to his bed, falling upon it like a sack of flour. The mattress was not as soft as the one in Brienne’s chamber. The room was not as warm. He shivered, slipping under the furs to try and ward off the chill. Brienne kept her fire going, logs always at the side of the hearth, so it was comfortable and felt like home. 

His room did not have a large fireplace, just a small one that barely lit up the space, let alone fill it with heat. Jaime buried his face into the blankets, expecting sleep to come slowly. His body, however, succumbed to the weight of his exhaustion quickly. 

_He stood at the back of a Sept. The place was lit by gentle candle light. Faceless people sat on the benches. The place was quiet, except for the soft mumblings of the Septon and the two exchanging vows. He squinted his eyes, trying to make them out. Who was speaking? The woman, dressed in deep blue, turned into the light. A yellow glow warmed her cheeks and brought her freckles out. She bit at her bottom lip, shy and sweet. He held his breath as Brienne took a man’s hand… his right hand._

_Jaime glanced down at his body. He did not have that hand- he did not have the gold one either. The nothingness weighed heavier than the metal had ever felt on his wrist. A light laugh caught his attention and he looked back up. Brienne ducked her head, a smile lifting her lips. The man- Jaime couldn’t make out his face- cupped her cheek and leaned his forehead to hers. They whispered words, so softly they shouldn’t carry to the back of the church where he was rooted in place, but they did._

_“I am hers as she is mine.”_

_“I am his as he is mine.”_

_Their voices combined. A ribbon looped around their wrists. He opened his mouth- to scream, to call out to her- but only silence fell from his lips. He wanted to run and force her to stop, but he could not move. He looked down at his feet and wanted to curse loudly. His feet were locked in metal boots, chained to the floor. He pulled his legs, trying to make them move the metal. Nothing worked._

_The words- the vows that he _should_ be sharing with her continued. Reaching the end, he was losing her. She was choosing another! His heart shattered in his chest, piercing his lungs and making it hard to breathe. Jaime leaned down to yank at the chain and the lock. He had to break it. He had to get free before she slipped from him completely. He looked up again just as the Septon smiled. The couple shared a kiss, sealing their union._

_His soul died. He angled his head down expecting to see blood gushing from the wound. The crowd around him started clapping, the sound beginning low and getting louder. Jaime lifted his head and stared at Brienne. Her cheeks were flushing, her gorgeous blue eyes were shining, and she appeared…happy. The way she looked at her new husband was like a knife to the gut. He turned his head to see the man that had stolen her from him…_

_Ser Walter leaned over and whispered in her ear before lifting their combined hands and kissing her knuckles. They started walking toward him, completely in their own world. He looked at Brienne franticly, willing her to see him and stop this ridiculous farce. She couldn’t be happy. Not with _him_. Cersei laughed at his side. Her cupid bow mouth curling in scornful amusement. _

_“Does it hurt, dear lover,” she walked around him, her nails clawing at the skin of his neck. “Does seeing your beast with another, a more worthy man gut you? Hurt your ego?” She stood in front of him. Two sets of green eyes, so alike and yet so different locked. The pain he felt while watching Brienne take another as her husband intensified with Cersei’s words. His sister grabbed the back of his head roughly and pulled his mouth to hers. The kiss was hard and unfeeling. It was teeth and viciousness. Blood seeped from his lips and tongue, coating his chin, flooding his mouth. She stepped back, her golden skin covered in crimson. “Your blood is in my veins, dear brother. You are me and I am you. You can pretend all you want, but this is the truth. You are nothing without me.”_

_Jaime tasted poison in his mouth, his blood turned inky black. He was dying. He was sinking. The floor around him rippled and changed. Morphing from solid to liquid. He yanked hard with his legs to move and break the iron. Cersei swung a key from a long chain. Side to side, the skeleton key glinted in the candle light._

_“Admit your place, Jaime,” she taunted._

_“I…” His voice caught. He could not give her what she wanted. Not when his blood was turning black and his heart was shattered and his mind… oh his mind was filled with images of Brienne with Ser Walter._

_“You want to know what the Beast looks like bouncing on his cock?” She gripped his wrist, her sharp claws breaking his thin skin over the veins. More blood dripped to the floor. “Let me show you.” The Sept fell completely away and they were in Brienne’s chamber. The two newlyweds were on the bed, Brienne’s hands moved under Walter’s tunic, Walter’s hands gripped Brienne’s bare ass. Moans of need, the wood of the bed creaking, sighs of pleasure filled the room. Jaime closed his eyes and turned away. “No!” Cersei dug her nails in harder. “Look! This is how it should be, this is how it _will_ be. You at my side, bleeding and broken. Her fucking another.” She purred in his ear. “The cow is not even thinking of you. Can you hear her? She is moaning _his_ name.” Jaime did not want to hear it, but it was true. Brienne panted out Walter as clothes were removed and she slid onto his hard cock. “Listen,” Cersei hissed. “She does not need you. I bet she enjoys two hands fondling her tits- what she has of them- more than one fumbling for purchase.” She bit his earlobe. “I know I did.”_

_“Walter,” Brienne called out as skin slapping skin filled the room._

_“Yes, my wife,” Walter grunted. “Fuck! Yes!”_

_The bed creaked and Jaime wanted to vomit. He shook his head. _No!_ he wanted to scream. It should be him. His name. His cock. His wife. **FUCK!** He will not let this be! _

_He pulled free of Cersei’s grip. “Brienne!” He called out. His voice was strong and left his mouth in a roar. The lovers on the bed turned to look at him. Walter smirked. His triumph clear. Brienne’s blue eyes were wide and honest. “Do you not love me? Did you not say you loved me? How could you lay with him, wed him?”_

_Brienne lifted from Walter’s body and walked naked to him. Her hands shook and her face flushed. “You did not love me back. You could never love me back. Cersei,” she looked at his sister, at the black blood, at the wounds. “She is the one that holds you. Even when she is not beside you. She is the one you think of… I cannot be second…”_

__Not second, _his heart cried._ Never second. One, only, don’t leave me._ _

_Walter came up behind her, his arms circling her waist. “Thank you, Lannister. Our happiness is due to you. Mayhaps we will name our first babe after the man that made our union possible.”_

_Jaime gagged and spit more black blood into floor. He sank to his knees. Cersei met him there, her body as unclothed as Brienne and Walter. “Lay with me. Return to me. Give in. Come back to me. I will swell with your child again. Another babe with our love.”_

_He shook his head, closed his eyes tightly. No, that’s not what he wanted. He pictured Brienne round and content, her head on his shoulder, his stump on her stomach and he wanted to weep. It was perfect and pure. He wanted her. He wanted them. He wanted his seed to take root in her stomach. He looked into Cersei’s eyes. “You are not my other half. You are not my soul. I do not want to be your bitch- a dog to lap up what scraps of love you give me. Be gone! Be the fuck **GONE!** ” She disappeared in a puff of smoke and the iron boots and chains crack and break from his feet. He got up off the ground and moved toward the couple. “He does not love you as I do,” he told Brienne. “And I have not been worthy of you, but I will. You will always be mine, Brienne of Tarth. You will always be _mine._ ”_

_Brienne looked at him. Her eyes shining. Hope and fear battling for dominance in her gaze. He had hurt her. He made her doubt. He would fix that. The wounds on his wrist healed, the blood stopped dripping from his mouth, and the poison left his veins. He looked at Walter. “You will never be with her.” He smirked. “But I thank you.” Walter’s mouth went slack in confusion. “Without your actions, I would have never known the truth of my heart. You are not needed any longer.”_

_Walter faded away, leaving Brienne alone before him. She pulled at her bottom lip and he stepped closer. “Us, Brienne. We are two parts of the same soul. Us.”_

He woke up in a tangle of furs and his heart beating hard against his ribs. He sat up, breathing slowly to calm himself. It was a dream. She never married Walter. Brienne did not leave him behind. But she will if he continued to do as he has been doing… Swinging his legs over the side, he ran his hand through his hair. He stood, cracking his back and walking toward the door. It was time to be better.

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Jaime walked into the courtyard, side-stepping puddles and ice as he moved swiftly to see his brother. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Brienne strolling on the opposite side with Walter. They were having a deep conversation. Brienne shook her head, frowning slightly. She turned toward him quickly with her back to Jaime. Jaime watched as Walter’s arms encircled her, pulling her close and his breath stopped in his chest. It was as if his dream came to life. She was in another man’s arms. He watched closely. The time stretched out in front of him and he started to move in their direction. The temperature of his blood increased. The thoughts in his mind turned slightly darker. His feet were carrying him where he knew he should not go. The day before he had made an error in how he handled his anger and jealousy. Jaime could not stop himself from wanting to rip Ser Walter apart… But then Brienne stepped away from Walter. She nodded in the younger man’s direction and they continued on their way.

His stomach was rolling and he once again felt like he was going to vomit. The image of Walter’s arms around Brienne from his dream was too fresh and to see it in person… He closed his hand into a fist and continued on his quest. Tyrion. He needed to find Tyrion and quick. Walter was getting too close and Brienne was moving too far from his reach. Jaime found the dwarf pouring over a large book in the library, his quill hovering over a page. The youngest Lannister looked up and leaned back. “Well if it is not my brother,” he placed his quill in the inkwell. “You are quite the talk of the keep. Many have retold the story of the Kingslayer and his whore and the poor soldier caught in the middle.”

“Do not call her…” He stopped when Tyrion raised his hand.

“I have laid with many whores in my time,” his mismatched eyes looked far away for a moment before refocusing. “Ser Brienne is not one and should never be called such a name. But, brother, are you surprised? She lays with you without a vow and then you make a scene in public to further humiliate her.”

Jaime grimaced and fell to the seat across from his brother. “I am quite aware of my shortcomings.” The words were true and bitter. He looked down at where his right hand should be and realized he was not wearing his golden one and that the clothes he wore were Brienne’s. “There are many reasons for Ser Brienne to never see me again. I have been cruel and heartless with her feelings… I lit her in the light of Cersei’s lies. I will not do that any longer.”

“I have heard these words before.” His brother looked at him with cunning eyes. 

Jaime shifted in his seat, “I mean them. If I do not break these chains she has shackled me with, I will never be happy- I know that now.”

“Have you finally purged our dear sister from your heart?” Tyrion’s lips lifted slightly in a sarcastic smile. “I never thought I would see the day…”

“She is always going to be part of me,” Jaime hedged. “We are twins and I do love her- do not look at me so harshly-” Tyrion rolled his eyes but did not say anything. “Cersei has borne my children and I have been her lover for over half my life, but I know,” he paused and licked his lips. “I know we are like poison to each other. She will kill me if I let her.”

“Yes, she will,” his brother sighed. “She will not take kindly to you leaving her or you falling for another. She has never liked to share her toys.”

The truth of his words settle between them. Jaime looked at his brother and for the first time said, “I am not Cersei’s anymore.”

“No,” Tyrion smiled, “You are not.” Silence settled in the air, thick and filled with heavy thoughts. Finally, he asked, “How are you going to convince Ser Brienne of that fact?”

Jaime met his eyes, “I was hoping you could help me with that.”

“Why would you want the advice of a man that has never been in love?”

“You may fool the rest of them, Tyrion,” Jaime said with a soft tone. “But you cannot fool me. I know you have loved and loved fiercely. I know that you have been hurt by love. I see more than you realize- like how you gaze after your wife. Do not act as if coming to you would be the worst idea I have ever had.” He smirked, “We both know that I have done stupider stuff in my time.”

“You have also shown your heart more than once,” Tyrion hopped from his chair and walked over to Jaime. “You have already given her a sword, armor and a squire. Each given with no purpose except to make her quest easier,” he tapped his short fingers against his beard, “maybe your next gift should be _intention_.”

“I am not following,” he spoke with a slowness, “how does one gift intention?”

“Have you ever walked with Ser Brienne, held her hand, told her she’s beautiful?” Tyrion moved to where a small table was set up by the large window. He poured a hefty amount of wine into a goblet and sat in the seat next to Jaime, careful not to spill the contents of his cup. “Have you ever _listened_ to her?”

“Brienne would not want that,” Jaime leaned back in his chair. “She is not like regular, boring ladies that wish to be pursued and fawned over.”

“Oh brother,” the dwarf sighed dramatically. “How did you manage to get her into your bed without realizing how much she _is_ like normal ladies? Under it all, she is a woman that wishes to be wanted and courted.”

“How can you be sure?” Jaime narrowed his eyes. “You do not know Brienne or her past. She has been hurt by men using flowery words and false gifts. She would not believe me if I called her beautiful because she has only ever been told she is ugly. Words are wind to her. She would not react well to that from me.”

“Jaime,” he took a long sip from his goblet and placed it on the table. “Take it from one that knows all too well how words can hurt, hearing that you are beautiful from someone that loves you and you love can change everything. She will fight you. She will resist the words, but that’s where intention comes in. If you make it your singular focus to show her how you see her, it will be very enlightening to her. There are broken pieces that need mending to the Lady’s soul. Help her and it will help you as well.”

Jaime nodded his head. He had been so focused on his problems, he forgot that Brienne needed to know that he was committed to her as well. He stood up, leaning over to ruffle his brother’s hair. “Thank you for your advice.”

Tyrion smiled, “I hope you can finally be happy, Jaime. You deserve that.”

“So do you,” Jaime responded, smiling back at him. He left the library and nearly ran into Sansa as she walked down the hallway. He bit back a sigh. The red-headed Stark narrowed her eyes at him. “Lady Sansa,” he nodded and moved to walk around her.

Her hand shot out and held firmly to his upper arm. “A word, Ser Jaime, if you would be so kind.”

Dread built up inside of him, but he knew he was already on thin ground with the North and especially with the Warden of the North. He followed her to her solar and waited until she took her seat behind the desk before sitting in front of it. She eyed him. Her eyes watchful and cool. She pressed her hands against the material of her dress then clasped them together over her middle.

“I should have you removed from Winterfell,” she said without any preamble. “I should have you locked in a cell before I do it. You have been given clemency only because I trust Ser Brienne and she thinks you are worthy of it.”

“I know that you have every…”

“I was not done, Ser Jaime,” her voice was as cold as the ice and snow that covered the ground. He held his tongue with effort. “I witnessed your actions with Brienne and Ser Walter. I saw how you treated her and then I saw her this morning.” Their gazes locked. “She looked like she had not slept and her eyes appeared red from crying.” Sansa dropped her stare from his. She took several deep breaths to compose herself before raising blue eyes back to his green ones. “I will not tolerate disrespect in my home. Especially to someone that I consider of great importance.”

“May I speak now?” he asked haltingly. He knew she was powerful, but it was hard not to roll his eyes and remember her as that annoying child that once panted after Joffrey. She arched her left brow at him then nodded. Jaime took a deep breath, “What I did in the practice yard was unacceptable and what I said to Brienne after was unforgivable. I cannot take it back or erase what happened, I can only try to move forward with Brienne.”

“And if she does not want you any longer,” Sansa tilted her head, “what will you do then?”

The pain of that thought knocked the wind out of him. He knew it was a possibility but… he did not think he could handle it if that became his fate. “I would leave her be. I would never force myself or my love on someone that wishes to have neither.”

Sansa was quiet for a moment. Her icy gaze never leaving his face. He held his breath ready for her to remove him from the castle anyway. She dropped her head and leaned over the desk picking up some papers. “Very well,” she did not look up as she continued, “you may leave now.”

He did not hesitate to exit the room and make his way to the grand hall. The place was filled with soldiers and Northerners breaking their fasts as well as talking about the work ahead of them. He searched the hall until he found her sitting near the hearth with Pod. He walked swiftly over to that long table, pointedly ignoring any whispers he heard along the way, and sat on the bench next to her. She tensed up. Her body tight as she shifted a little away from him. The eyes of all in the hall seemed to be on them at that moment. Jaime felt the weight of them on his shoulders. He had earned that, Brienne had not. He turned his head, glaring at those that dared to stare. He might not be the fighter he once was but he would take them all on… for her. 

Jaime turned back and caught a glimpse of Pod’s expression. If eyes could shoot arrows, he was sure he would be dead. The young man looked at his Lady Knight and a silent conversation passed between them. The squire frowned and got up from the table but not before tossing another angry look at Jaime. Brienne opened her mouth to, more than likely, tell him to leave her be, but stopped when he took her hand in his. 

“I know that you do not believe me when I tell you I love you. I know I have caused you pain, but I will fix that if you let me.”

“How?” she asked quietly. “How will you fix what is broken?” 

Jaime smiled and took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips, “By courting you, by treating you as the lady you are and by showing you the respect you deserve. I know I have much to make up for, Brienne. I only ask for one thing from you.”

“What is that?”

“I ask you not to give up on me yet,” he kissed her knuckles. “I am an old lion. And one that has been stuck in the same place too long. I have hurt you because I have been hurt and I cannot tell you how much I regret that. Give me the chance, one chance, to show you what I feel. I am asking you to trust me.”

Her hand shook in his and her eyes told him all he needed to know. She was scared to put her trust and heart in his hand again… he would have to work hard to earn that precious part of her once more. He held his breath and waited. He would not push her. If she did not want him, he would do as he told Sansa. But he hoped…

“Alright,” she whispered. “One chance, Ser Jaime.” Her teeth pulled at the skin of her bottom lip. “I will not give you another one after this. I will not be hurt by you again.”

Jaime nodded soberly. He understood. This was it and he kissed her knuckles again. One chance was all he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you liked it or hated it...


End file.
